


About promiscuity and the causes thereof

by zort



Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: F/M, Groupies, Het and Slash, M/M, Multi, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-19
Updated: 2010-06-19
Packaged: 2017-10-10 04:44:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/95617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zort/pseuds/zort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris has a very busy night with a lot of different people, except the only one that matters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	About promiscuity and the causes thereof

  
Everyone always told him he was too nice, and on the whole they were absolutely right. What they usually did not realise was how right they were, or more precisely how far being nice usually got him.

This time he was not convinced he would manage to get through the night uninjured, and he would get yelled at by the Clown on top of everything. On the other hand, he would go down enjoying himself tremendously.

Pushing his hand through his hair, Chris swayed slightly and reached for the wall with his other hand. He was not drunk, but he had seen in the eyes of the people he had met earlier that he probably looked the part. In all honesty, the actual truth was probably worse than being drunk.

It was really late, or very early, so the corridors were essentially empty, except for a few fans still lurking around, including one of the girls he had been with until recently.

Recognising him, she flushed a little but did not attract the others' attention to his presence. He had left a hickey on the inside of her thigh and, even though the taste of lipstick on his lips was not from hers, it was as cheap as the one she was wearing. Sending her a small wink, he started walking again.

Two doors down, he stopped, fished the key out of his pocket and got in carefully. Inside, the light was on.

That was a little surprising. Of course, he had told James of his plans for the night and offered him to join in the fun, but he had not really expected the guitarist to join, and unsurprisingly James had not. But apparently, his refusal did not go as far as it could have.

He smiled crookedly at the long body lying across the bed, clad only in a pair of fish printed boxers.

"Thought you weren't interested…"

His voice was huskily low, after all the evening's activities he was lucky it had not gone entirely. Maybe after James it would.

The guitarist jerked up, startled from his contemplation of the ceiling and dropped his head down the side of the bed, focusing on him up-side down. A smirk slowly illuminated his face.

"Depends what you're offering…"

Walking in, Chris smirked back and watched James roll until he was laying with most of his upper body off the bed and able to watch him with the correct perspective. Before he reached the bed though, he stopped and spread his arms, tilting his head to one side.

"Whatcha thinking?"

The look in James's eyes declared loudly that he was rather past thinking and that Chris would do good to move his ass and get it in bed.

Out of habit rather than any real desire to tease, Chris remained were he was and licked his lips, reflecting again that it would be nice if groupies eventually stopped being cheap and bought nice lipstick. His attention was brought back to James when a dangerous growl resounded and something dangled into his tee-shirt pulling him towards the bed.

"Careful, man, I taste like groupies…"

The guitarist apparently wasn't up for witty comments. Rather than answer, he pulled harder and successfully unbalanced Chris enough to make him stumble head first onto the bed. He wasn't interested in Chris's back though, and, a moment later, Chris found himself sprawled on his back with a rather large guitarist straddling his thighs, and equally as large hands fighting their way under his shirt.

"Man, m'glad you're enjoying'n all but careful, yeah? This's my favourite shirt..."

James let out something that sounded vaguely positive and his frantic motions turned more careful, finally he succeeded in getting rid of Chris's tee-shirt. As his chest was uncovered, he could see the guitarist's eyes getting wider and a low whistle finally escaped his lips.

"Wow, dude, how many d'you manage to get?"

He blinked, suddenly feeling self-conscious, which was odd given his usual nocturnal activities. But then James traced the marks with his callused fingers and he could not help but arch at the feeling, his mouth opening to let out a silent moan.

James leaned down and used his tongue to explore the marks, making him moan breathily this time. There was no way his sensitised nerves could take a lot of this, but then again, James knew that perfectly well and he pointedly licked Chris's left nipple.

"So?"

Letting out a soft gasp, he tangled his hands into James's hair and pulled his head off his chest. He forced himself to steady his breathing and tried to gather his wits.

"M'not sure… Had a couple o'girls for you too. Couldn't tell 'em to fuck off when you didn't show up, so like… four or five girls… Told you I was groupie-tasting tonight…"

As he finished speaking, he caught a flicker of something in James's eyes and for a second he could not tell if it was good or bad. But then, James rocked his hips, making him open his mouth to let out a pathetic little whimper. It never reached open air though, because James had leaned down and was kissing him hard, drinking the sounds from his throat.

Big hands roamed over his chest again, and his clang harder into the heavy mess of hair like he might drown if he let go. It was James's turn to moan in the kiss and their hips locked together as if both of them pushing would somehow result in something else than bruises and frustration. In the end, he gave in because that was what he did best, and he felt the warmth of James's erection seeping against his through his jeans.

Sometimes, he wondered if James would be so good if he was not already intoxicated on sex, his nerves hot-wired and begging. Sometimes, he tried to imagine what it would be like not to give in, not to let people have what they wanted, not to finish his nights in the same bed every single time. And then, he thought of James's hands on him and it did not matter anymore.

Somehow James had not only lost his boxers but also opened his jeans and the way their hips did not slot together started to matter a lot more. He groaned and dug his nails into James's scalp hard enough to make his point. James bit his lip in retaliation, they pulled apart minutely and he tried not to whine too obviously.

"Fucking do something!"

James smirked evilly, rocking his hips in that way that was totally not satisfying for either of them. Except of course James had not been playing focal point in a gang bang an hour earlier and it was unfair of him to use Chris's weaknesses against him. Chris hissed, gripped James's head harder and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Pulling away cautiously, the guitarist smirked wider.

"You're such a slut, Fehn… And you're the best fuck this side of the Atantic. Now shut up and behave!"

"Make me!"

Trying to manage a proper glare, he looked at the other man with smouldering eyes and was rewarded by a hard, oxygen-stealing kiss. James's hands grabbed and pinched, stroked and rubbed, scratched and soothed over his chest, turning him again into a panting, writhing and more importantly willing mass.

"That wasn't hard…"

James nipped at his jaw, before starting some complicated manoeuvre that Chris's overloaded brain could not process. Up to the point where he was rolled to his side and, just as unbelievable warmth engulfed him, he realized James's cock was barely inches away from him.

If his brain had not been so totally useless he would have grinned at the irony of James's gagging method, as it was he took his time licking the pre-come away before he finally did what was expected of him and took the tip in his mouth. The action seemed to be met with approval as he felt a low moan vibrating around his own cock, which shot liquid fire up his spinal cord and in turn made him suck harder just to try and get more of that feeling.

He was not going to last, there was no way in hell he could last long with the way James's tongue kept on exploring every single little flesh fold, as if he was doing this for the very first time. And maybe it was the first time Chris so totally did not taste like himself.

Trying to keep in pace with what James was doing to him, he almost gagged as fingers suddenly massaging his balls made him jerk up. The bad part was that James pulled away to moan, the good part was that he took up the opportunity to go and suck on his sack. The difficult part was to try and keep track of what he himself was doing, he almost bit when he felt nails carefully trailed up his length. The easy part was to keep moaning, as every vibration made James lose that more control.

Before they had had bets on who would be able to last longer, and even though tonight was definitely not about this, his pride just would not let him give in so easily. Focusing on the way James felt, he started mimicking the man's action but in an opposing rhythm so that when he moaned James would be nipping and when he nipped James would moan. And he built up the rhythm, feeling every twitch from James's body, every moan from his throat, and spasm from his fingers.

And he knew he was losing it, he did not want to and he kept fighting but he was ultimately powerless to the way his body just shot down. He felt himself fall and screamed, clawing at something blindingly for support.

When he came to he was coughing hard, like he was trying to spit his lungs. There was a salty taste in his mouth and big hands holding on to him comfortingly.

For a few minutes he focused on his breathing, thankful for the warmth when he felt James spoon behind him, big hands drawing gentle circles on his belly. He listened to their breathing settle down to the slow rhythm of almost sleep, then he sighed and carefully pulled himself free. His night was not over yet.

Wiping the side of his mouth, he looked around for his tee-shirt and let out a long sigh when he pulled himself to his feet, staggering even more than earlier. He almost tripped on his own feet when he bent down to pick up the garment, and needed the wall for support to put it back on. His knees had turned to something akin to jelly, he sighed again louder this time.

"Man you'll kill you'self… Why dun'you stay a lil'?"

The voice was deep and sleepy and he wished he could follow its lure.

"Y'know I can't…"

His voice scratched and croaked.

"Guess I do… S'in the bus, he said…"

He nodded and pulled himself upright again. The way to the bus was an unpleasant blur, where he almost tripped every other step and wished he could drop there, wherever that might be, and sleep at last. But somehow he managed and eventually crawled into the already occupied bunk.

There was a soft growl at the intrusion, then the warm body shifted to give him more space. A second later they were cuddled against each other and his mind was already flying when the whisper brought him back with a start.

"Y'reek of sex… Tomorrow, take a shower a'right…"

Then the sampler wrapped his arm around his waist and Chris knew he was sleeping again. Sometimes he wished Craig was gay, maybe his nights would not be so complicated.

[the end]

**Author's Note:**

> To [](http://fag-girl.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://fag-girl.livejournal.com/)**fag_girl** because she helped me with the 'plot'.


End file.
